


Intersection

by captainofthefallen



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Edér is not present but he is mentioned, F/F, F/M, Past Watcher/OC, Past Watcher/Tirsa, Pillars Prompts Weekly, Prompt 26, Referenced Watcher/Edér
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 09:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13656444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainofthefallen/pseuds/captainofthefallen
Summary: For Pillars Prompts Weekly 0026: Roll For It. I rolled someone from the Watcher’s past, dancing, and desires. Also posted on my tumblr.





	Intersection

**Author's Note:**

> For clarity’s sake: Kitan is a hireling pale elf barbarian and serves mainly as Mara’s guard captain, managing the keep mercenaries and all that. Also the Devil’s endings made me sad so I had her stay and join the mercs instead.

She’s lying back in the outstretched hand of the adra titan, eyes closed, when Kitan finds her.

_He’s learning,_ she thinks, hearing the steps coming down the ladder from the chapel exterior entrance, the respectful silence as he approaches.

“You found me quicker this time,” she says when he stops moving. She doesn’t open her eyes.

“I remembered last time a petitioner pissed you off. You came down here, I had to deal with the lot of them.” He sits next to her. “Not that I mind, it being my job and all. Sent the rest of them to the chapel, by the way. Said they’re welcome to stay for the night, but you might not be able to take any more petitions until tomorrow.”

She exhales, sinking further into the palm of the hand, tension washing out of her body. “Thanks.”

He waits a few moments before speaking again. “Reason I came to find you… one of them stayed. I left her with Devil, just in case, but I thought you might want to hear this one.”

That catches her attention. If nothing else, Kitan is extraordinarily astute, and if he let this woman stay, he has a reason. “What was different?”

“She asked for Mara,” he says. “Not Lady Mara, or Lady Emerys, or the Watcher, or any of the usual titles. Just Mara.”

“Who is she?”

“Wouldn’t tell me her name. Moon godlike. Elf, I think. Crossbow strapped to her back.”

She closes her eyes, her face dropping back into her hands. “Tell her I’ll be with her momentarily. And bring her into the great hall.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

She hesitates. “Clear the hall of everyone but you and Devil.”

He hesitates right back. “She a threat?”

She looks up at where he’s waiting. “I don’t know. I… it’s been years. I don’t know why she’d seek me out, but… I want to be prepared.”

He just nods. “I’ll get it done.” And he’s gone again.

She almost doesn’t move. She almost just stays there, basking in the warmth of the adra hand, and refuses to face her past.

But Kitan and the Devil are waiting, and by the sound of it, this problem won’t be going away any time soon.

She crosses the first level of the Endless Paths, emerging into the dungeon of her keep, prepared to make a suitably dramatic entrance from beside the throne. (It would have been equally dramatic to push open the front doors to the keep, but that would also have necessitated a longer awkward silence. Never let it be said she doesn’t think things through.)

From the chamber adjacent to the hall, she hears the front doors close, the unmistakable sound of the Devil’s footsteps walking back up the hall, accompanied by someone who can only be Kitan. But it’s not them she’s worried about.

She takes a deep breath, bites the metaphorical bullet, and opens the door.

The visitor Kitan described has her back to her, examining the hall by the looks of it, but even from this angle she’s unmistakable. Even after nearly a decade, she’s barely changed. At least, not on the outside.

Her crossbow has gotten fancier. Gold trim–whether it’s actual gold or just paint she can’t tell at this distance–adorns it, the bolts she has in a pouch at her side seem sleeker.

Her hair is shorter. Straight blue locks, not quite brushing her shoulders, crowned by a halo that pulses with silver light. She’s dressed in simple leggings, boots, and a mail shirt, with that reed flute at her side, right next to a stiletto.

Even from behind, she’s just as breathtakingly stunning as Mara remembered.

She turns, her hair swishing around her head in an almost ethereal way. (Is she imagining things now? Probably. She didn’t think she was that nervous, but the evidence can’t lie.) Her eyes, shining the same color as her halo, meet Mara’s.

“Hello, Mara,” she says in that resonant, enchanting voice that captivated so many. “I hoped you’d be here when I arrived.”

Mara… just walks forward a bit, stopping at the foot of the stairs to her throne, trying to overcome her speechlessness. A bit of her soul unconsciously reaches for the presence of the Steward, and while her stone friend doesn’t speak, there’s a warmth there that’s both unmistakable and comforting. She tears her eyes away, glancing to Kitan and the Devil, who are standing close by, eyes on the visitor. She takes a deep breath. “Hi, Tirsa. It’s… it’s been a while.” Gods, that sounds so cliché, what is she even doing? “Why are you here?” she manages.

Tirsa smiles that enigmatic smile, the one that Mara really doesn’t remember being this infuriating. “I was traveling in the area,” she says. “I heard of a Lady Mara, Watcher of Caed Nua. I never dreamed it could actually be you, but… I made inquiries, and–”

“And here I am,” Mara finishes. “It’s… a bit of a long story, I suppose. But really, Tirsa, you didn’t come here just out of curiosity.”

There’s a faint tinge of purple to the blue skin of her cheeks. “You always did notice more than most,” she says. “No, that was not my only purpose. I… confess I’d hoped we could catch up a little before we brought that up.” She tips her head to one side, an unasked question.

She considers yielding. Part of her considers letting Tirsa have whatever she wants, like she did the first time they met, but… something stops her. She’s grown since then. Changed. And… somehow, she thinks, she knows now who she is without her, without _others_. An advantage she lacked at the time. “I…” she begins. “Forgive my paranoia, but I prefer to know what is intended towards me before I engage in small talk.”

Tirsa smiles. “You are speaking like a lady, Mara. You have learned well.”

She ducks her head. “I had help,” she mutters, thinking of Aloth with the usual accompanying pang. Where is he now? Is he safe? She thought she could content herself with not knowing, but it’s proving… somewhat more difficult than she anticipated. “But you’re dodging my question,” she adds, returning her thoughts to the present.

The smile widens. “Quite astute of you,” she says. She takes a breath. “Simply put, I sought you out with the hope that you had not changed quite so much as to forget our time together.”

Mara chuckles a little. “That’s hardly simply put, Tirsa. But I take your meaning.” The walls of the Great Hall, vast as they are, suddenly feel oppressive. “Walk with me,” she says, and not waiting for a response, leads the way out of the hall, nodding discreetly at Kitan as she passes. They will follow, then–or more likely the Devil will follow; being unseen is not Kitan’s forte–and keep an eye on the situation, showing themselves only if the situation calls for it.

Only once outside does she really consider where she’s going. Nearly everywhere in this keep has strong memories of some kind, and most of the places she’d consider out here… well they all carry a very particular kind of memory that she’s hoping to avoid right about now.

She settles on the forum, leading the way there and sitting on the edge of one of the stone benches. Tirsa sits beside her, looking almost… wary, in a way Mara’s never seen before.

Neither of them speaks for a long moment. At last, Tirsa breaks the silence. “So? You have said you take my meaning. Do you have a reply, or are we simply here to bask in the afternoon sun?”

She laughs. “Much as that sounds like an excellent use of our time… Tirsa, I want to hear you say it. Say it, plain and simple, in regular old Aedyran, so I don’t have to guess anything.”

She sighs, looking at the ground. After a long moment, she answers. “Mara… years ago, I left your village, and I asked you to come with me. You refused, saying you could not leave your family. Finding you here… I could not help but hope that the situation had changed.” She holds up a finger as Mara begins to speak. “While I suspect if I asked you the same thing now, your response would simply be ‘I cannot leave my keep’… Perhaps I hoped instead that you would allow me to remain by your side. Perhaps I hoped… that your feelings have lingered… as mine have.”

She knew, of course. From the moment she walked into the room and Tirsa met her eyes, maybe even from the moment she heard she’d come, she suspected. But to hear her say it is something else entirely. “You never returned,” she says instead of answering. If they’re going to have this conversation, they’re going to have the whole conversation. “Cordelia came back twice more before I left, and I never saw you again.”

She doesn’t ask the question, but Tirsa hears it all the same. “At the time, I hoped you would forget me,” she says. “I was… young. Foolish. For weeks, I convinced myself that you’d refused to join me because you did not feel as I felt. As time went on… it was easier to stay away. Easier to try to forget, rather than continue to remember, knowing that each time I returned, I would have to leave you.”

“I thought of looking for you,” she blurts suddenly. “When I left home, I almost did. But… since you never came back, I assumed you’d forgotten.”

Tirsa studies her for a moment. “I… this tells me that your feelings linger, but there is something in your face that tells me there is more to the story.”

Mara meets her eyes, letting the regret she feels show on her face. “There is.” She brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. “Do you want the whole story, or just the relevant part?”

She looks up at the sky. “We have the time. Tell me everything.”

She does. She tells her the story, starting with the caravan, and ending with Thaos and that machine in Sun in Shadow. She tells her everything in between–her adventures, her alliances, and her friends. She tells her about Edér.

“I’m sorry,” she finishes.

Tirsa, however, is beaming when she finally meets her eyes. “Mara, my sweet Mara, why are you sorry? You have found love with your dearest friend, you should be the happiest person on Eora!” Her expression sobers. “I…” She stops, looks away, as though she’s searching for words. “I cannot pretend that I am not at all disappointed,” she admits quietly. “But that you have found this, even through all your trials and struggles… your happiness delights me, my dear.”

Mara smiles tentatively. “I… have to admit that’s not the reaction I was expecting. I do… appreciate it, though. Your understanding.”

Tirsa stands, walking a few steps away, then back, not quite _pacing,_ not in the agitated sense that Mara knows it, just… almost as though she’s releasing excess energy. “If you would have me,” she says, “I would still wish to stay. Even if only for a while.” She stops walking, looking back at Mara with a gleam in her eye. “You have very capable guards, but guards can always use extra help. The metal woman in the shadows, I suspect she would deny it, but perhaps your Glamfellan friend can be convinced to see reason. I would guess he is your captain, no?”

Mara laughs openly, standing to join her. “Stand down, Devil,” she says. “Tell Kitan it’s safe.” Turning to Tirsa as the Devil slinks away, she adds, “You’re as perceptive as ever.”

“I practice.” She winks. “So what do you say? Will you accept my services? Perhaps even my friendship?”

Mara nods slowly. “I accept both,” she says. “On the condition that our past remains in the past.”

She nods with a sigh. “I would make one request, though.”

“And what’s that?”

“Before we enter into this contract… dance with me. One last time.”

The small smile on her face feels nostalgic. “For old times’ sake?”

“Yes.” She holds out her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Mara takes it. Tirsa hums quietly, just enough for them to dance to, like they always used to, under the starlight in the fields just beyond the village. “It’s funny,” she says after a few minutes. “I remember our time together as though it were only yesterday, and lasted for an eternity. But it was years ago, and lasted only weeks. Do you feel the same?”

“So much has happened,” she says. “It does feel as though it lasted longer than it did. It was… it was important that way.”

There’s quiet again, and Tirsa keeps humming until she stops to speak again. “So… when can I meet this Edér of yours?”

“Whenever he comes by, provided you behave yourself.”

Tirsa clucks her tongue. “Mara, you say this as though I do not always behave myself.”

“I believe you, of course,” she says. “I believe you behave yourself, and I believe you’re a terrible singer, and I believe you don’t cheat at cards…”

Tirsa swats her gently on the arm. “Now you are teasing me.”

Mara winks. “Astute of you.”

At last, they break apart, bowing to each other in the traditional fashion. Tirsa holds out her hand. “You have proposed a contract. I will join your guard, serve under your captain, and keep our past between us. Are we in agreement?”

Mara shakes her hand. “We are. Welcome to Caed Nua, Tirsa Vayol.”


End file.
